


A Bright Idea

by DreamWalker682



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Bureaucracy, Counclishipping, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Teeth is a Good Friend, this is such an obscure set of characters it isn't even funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 18:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamWalker682/pseuds/DreamWalker682
Summary: Mikell Bright has been in the O5 Council for the long haul... until now. Several years ago him and another O5 fell in love. Mikell Bright knows that he needs to get out before the anomalous destroys their relationship.





	A Bright Idea

**Author's Note:**

> O5 council members listed at the bottom
> 
> Constructive criticism welcome

Mikell Bright felt like he was making a mistake. As he sat in the Council Room, hand linked with Eight’s underneath the U-shaped table, his nerves fizzled with energy. The grey concrete walls gave the impression of a prison, fluorescent lights enhancing the view. The Founder’s voice droned through the mechanical apparatus attached to his mouth and nose. The final addresses of the meeting were being read off. 

O5-1 stood up and scanned his eyes over the council. A faint British accent echoed in the room.

“Any O5 wishing to express anything may now speak.” Mikell disengaged his hand from his lover’s and stood up, staring at Seven from across the table. The semi-deity had helped him in making the decision, encouraging him to be honest about himself in their own half-mad, eldritch way. The conversation had largely consisted of Seven putting their hand on his shoulder and saying:

“Opportunities like this are a lot like teeth, most people only get so many in their lives.” 

Mikell wasn’t going to question the wisdom of the proverb, but like many things, he was going to take them to heart. 

“Ahem. My friends and colleagues, there is no easy way to put this, so I will give it to you bluntly,” He paused, gathering the courage to say what he was about to say. “I am formally announcing my retirement from the O5 Council.” 

The collective gasp from the council table was astonishing. One broke his expressionless façade for a second, Twelve straightened up and stopped experimenting with amnestic formulas, even Tamlin seemed surprised. 

 

“Excuse me?” said the Founder, blinking dazedly. “Did I here you correctly?”

“I’m afraid you did. I am retiring from the O5 council, but not from the Foundation. My last motion as O5-6 is to request a position as an auxiliary Factotum.” 

One was about to sputter something about O5’s not quitting when Three placed his hand on his shoulder and to quiet him. Three was one of the few people capable of calming One down, right along with Two and Seven, his oldest friends. He motioned for the vote to begin.

Six watched as green, red and grey lights lit up around the Council table, indicating the voting. Six watched hopefully as the display at the far end of the table lit up with digital numbers. 

Aye: 2, 3, 4, 7, 10, 12  
Nay: 1, 5, 9, 11  
Abstain: 8, 6  
Tiebreaker not used.  
Motion passed on a 6-4 vote, 2 abstaining. 

“Well,” says Nine, “This means that it passes. Six, report for reassignment in two weeks’ time, and One?”

One turned toward the man and sighed. “I know, I won’t try to veto a majority council vote, I’m not the Administrator,” There was a collective inhale, O5’s attempting to quell their hate for the man. The Founder turned and gestured to Six. “It’ll be a shame to see you go Six, but we shouldn’t call you Six anymore I suppose. Do you have any request for a Factotum name?”

Mikell, O5-6 no longer, pondered for a moment. After a couple seconds a name popped into his head. He smiled and looked up towards the Founder, Eve, his main Factotum at his back. 

“I think Dogwood sounds good.”

 

 

As he walked out of the Council room, Mikell could hear the footstep pattern of Eight as he ran up behind him. He felt a hand grab his arm and pull him into an empty side room of Site 01. Eight is face to face with him, a worried expression making Mikell lower his head apologetically. 

“Why did you do that?!” the shorter man asks, staring up into Mikell’s face. “What the fuck was that?” 

“I’m tired of being an O5. I don’t and never have liked having the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I don’t know how One has dealt with it for over 500 damned years. As an O5 the only way I would get out besides this is death, and I don’t want to leave you! I don’t want you to lose me when I day!”

Eight stood there, taken aback by the sudden burst of emotions. He tried to stutter out a response, mouth working to say something to the confession. They had been dating for five years and this was the most forward expression of love that he can remember. There was a moment of silence before he grabbed Mikell’s neck and pulled him down into a bruising kiss. Mikell barely had time to take a breath when the wind was just about knocked out of him by the kiss, slowly sinking into the familiar rhythm of kissing his smaller lover. 

After several minutes of straight kissing Mikell broke away from the kiss, looking down into Eight’s eyes. His pupils had dilated heavily, eclipsing his blue iris’s. They blew out like this whenever they kissed, the strong influx of emotions never failing to arouse the youngest O5. 

“Mikell?” Eight asked, grinding against the former O5’s hip, “Just… I really want you right now.”

“But were-” He was cut off by Eight slipping a hand into his pants and a breathy voice whispering: “I don’t care if the entire damned council walks into the room right now, I want you Mikell!” He began to unbutton Mikell’s pants, effectively shutting him up. With that statement, the dominant side of Mikell was brought out, and he pushed Eight down onto the large table used for minor meetings. He glanced around and realized that neither of them had any lube on them, and there was probably none in the entirety of Site-01. 

Eight had come to the same conclusion and sighed heavily before perking up. 

“You know, you don’t have to actually… be inside of me. We can just… just come here!”

Mikell smiled. Eight was usually submissive, both in bed and in everyday life. So watching him get commanding and dominant in bed had never failed to get him riled up. Shucking off his suit jacket, he approached Eight and began to take off the younger’s pants. He could see how hard Eight had gotten underneath their cotton briefs, erection straining against the tight fabric. Mikell, now devested of clothes save for his shirt, begins to trail kisses across his chest, hands feeling the goosebumps he leaves in his wake. He’s about to pull down their briefs when a hand stops his.

Eight is looking up at him, a mischievous grin spreading from ear to ear. 

“Let me take care of you. You just gave up your position so that you wouldn’t die in the future. So you deserve some quality treatment. Is that okay actually?” His expression has changed from playful to anxious in a matter of seconds. He was always like this when he got dominant, afraid that he wouldn’t like it, or preferred if he remained submissive. He would reassure Eight every time, and he needed to do that now.

“You can Eight, in fact, I would like that very, very much…” With that he nipped at Eight’s collar bone, drawing a small yelp from him. They switched position, Eight dropping to the floor to unbuckle his belt, pulling his slacks down to his ankles. He nuzzled his cheek to the outline of Mikell’s cock, mouthing it through the fabric. He shuddered, the feeling of Eight’s mouth on him a luxury he intended to savor. After a few more seconds of nuzzling, he pulled it out. It was fairly-sized, cut, and well-proportioned. In other words, it was standard.

Flicking his eyes upward, Eight wrapped his lips around the head, sucking it into his mouth and tasting his salty precome. He closes his eyes and moans, a low vibration that runs down his dick from head to root. Mikell can’t help but grasp the back of Eight’s head, restraining himself from pulling the smaller man down onto his cock, instead settling for gently guiding him down. Eight closed his eyes, widening his jaw to accommodate more of his lover. 

“F-fucking hell Eight…” Mikell was panting, the stress of the decision he had just made and the stress of his job leaving him pent up. Eight knew this and redoubled his efforts, slowly moving his mouth up and down. Meanwhile, Mikell was slowly falling apart. His face was flushed, a strawberry red color extending from his collarbone to his cheeks. Eight always thought he was adorable when he blushed, the hard features of a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders disappearing. It was refreshing to Eight.

Eight was so lost in his observations that he jerked with surprise when Mikell’s other hand wrapped around his neck and pulled him down roughly. With a strangled cry, he began to come, hips minutely jerking as he held Eight down. Eight wrapped his hand around his own cock, stroking himself to completion as Mikell shuddered and shook above him, eyes closed and mouth open. When Mikell’s orgasm subsided and he opened his eyes, he was greeted by Eight’s face. He was staring up at him with half-lidded eyes, blue and hooded. Brown hair was tousled, disheveled by his hands. His skin sparkled with sweat under the fluorescent ceiling lights of the Site, and in that moment, the only word Mikell could describe him as was ‘angelic’. 

Without as much as a word, Mikell grabbed Eight and hoisted him up. Gripping Eight to his chest he kissed him. He could feel the O5 slump against him, their bodies fitting together as they panted. They only broke apart at the realization that the door to the room had opened. They whirled toward the entrance, the deadpan expression of o5-10: The Archivist greeting them. She stood still in her immaculate grey suit, staring at the two of them. She finally broke the silence with one word.

“…Unprofessional”

She than turned on her heel and left, walking down the silent hallway. For several moments, the only noises were the quiet pants of the two men, right before Eight broke out into soft laughter. 

“Of all the O5’s to catch us, I’m glad it was Ten, it could have been Five or, god-forbid, One. Imagine the bastard walking in on us…” He trailed off into quiet chuckles, and the laughter helped to improve Mikell’s mood, smiling and burying his face in Eight’s neck. 

“Wouldn’t have pegged Ten as the type to just say one word and leave, I thought she would chew us out, but I guess I’m wrong.”

“Nah,” Eight replied, perking his head up, “did you know some Factotum say she has a girlfriend?” Mikell looked back up at Eight, arching his eyebrow and motioning for him to continue.

“Yeah, some of my staff keep me noted on gossip, and if the rumors are true, Ten is narcissistic. They say she’s dating her one Factotum, Salt.” Mikell laughed, and ran his hands through his hair, messing up the younger’s curly hair.

“Let’s talk some other time, we need to get some rest. You need to work hard tomorrow, and I’ll have the Founder’s fury in the form of paperwork to deal with, so c’mon.” He maneuvered them both to their feet, and they began to redress, fixing their appearances as much as possible before they exited the room, walking down the quiet hallways of Site-01. As they passed Factotum and medical staff, O5’s and Alpha-1 members, O5-8 and Dogwood slipped their hands together.

**Author's Note:**

> http://www.scp-wiki.net/o5-command-dossier
> 
> O5-1: The Founder  
> O5-2: The Nazarene  
> O5-3: The Philosepher Scientist  
> O5-5: The Blackbird  
> O5-6: The Cowboy/Mikell Bright  
> O5-7: Teeth  
> O5-8: The Newbie/Lesser  
> O5-10: The Archivist
> 
> To my followers: I hope you like this.


End file.
